Work Text:
It was a chilly morning. The streets of London were quiet and peaceful as ever. Its residents snug in their beds, fast asleep. That is, all except--
“ Eeeeeve ,” groaned Villanelle from her blanket wrap on the couch in Eve’s living room.
Eve emerged groggily from the staircase, still wiping the sleepiness from her eyes.
“What is it, Villanelle? It’s,” she glanced down at her phone, “five in the morning, Jesus.”
“I cannot sleep, Eve. I have been coughing for hours, and my chest feels like a prison. Tight. As hell.” Every few words were punctuated with a pitiful wheeze and even more pitiful puppy dog eyes from Villanelle.
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” said Eve. “You can’t take any more cough medicine for at least two hours and--”
“Lay with me?”
Eve scoffed at this with a sarcastic smile. “You know, you’ve become really childish since I’ve known you. What happened to the strong, independent, stone-cold killer I once knew?” she said, shaking her head and making no motion to indulge Villanelle’s request.
“Hmph. Okay, Eve, just let me die here under these blankets with this tacky apartment being the last thing I’ll ever see,” said Villanelle as she pulled the covers up to her chin innocently.
Rolling her eyes at the melodrama, Eve sighed. “Move over, weirdo. And you aren’t getting any more pillows if you keep insulting my interior design.”
Villanelle’s eyes lit up. She sat up quickly and moved over, blankets bunched around her shoulders, making room for Eve.
“When you get me sick, you better take care of me,” Eve grumbled, pulling her socked feet up onto the couch and resting her head on Villanelle’s shoulder.
The pair sat in silence for mere minutes before Eve fell back asleep, snoring ever so slightly.
Villanelle smiled gently--something she reserved for when nobody was looking, of course--and pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead.
“I love you, Eve.”